


TF2 Drabbles

by Starwaia



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Characters based on TF2 classes, Gen, Old work, Varying POV, Vignette, tentaspy mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 13:19:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8329399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starwaia/pseuds/Starwaia
Summary: Vignettes about various TF2 OCs and their daily lives, the daily grind of battle, plus something stirring in the basement...
Probably not going to finish this, sorry.
Old work.
(Also posted to my Deviantart account, Uberviolet)





	

It was midnight, and the base was dark. Cease fire left it oddly quiet, for those awake at such late hours. The BLU engineer, Charlie, was nodding off in his workshop while attempting some late-night repairs on his newest device, when he heard the door creak open.  
“Who's there?” Warily, he looked up from the mess of semiconductors and transistors and the like- usually no-one bothered him unless they had a reason. He could be quite irritable when he wanted, and oftentimes downright unpleasant.  
“Just Alex.”  
Oh. It was just the newbie, the new spy. Obviously wasn't used to the custom of following the directions of the DO NOT DISTURB sign posted by the door, or maybe he just wanted to make trouble. You could never tell with these rookie types. Charlie turned and gave the spy an attempt at a menacing stare. “Alright, whaddya want?”  
“I can't sleep.”  
“That it, son?” Nightmares were everyday, well, every night life in the beginning. Might as well get this over with, he supposed, at least until the newcomer got used to the sound of screams and the sight of blood. Hadn't he been trained for this? Hadn't they all been?  
Kid apparently didn't know what to say. Charlie sighed. Coddling a newbie wasn't his job, heck, it wasn't anybody's job. But he had already given a bad first impression, and that wouldn't fly if they were to be teammates, work together, yada yada. 'Course, he never trusted spies, in general, but in the game of spy vs spy one could do better without the nightmares.  
“Look kid, I dream too.” Best to give it straight. “Don't worry about it. 'Least they don't die for real anymore, not with respawn.”  
“It's not that. I heard noises. Downstairs.”  
“And what were ya doing downstairs at this hour?”  
Alex coughed, embarrassed. “Reading.”  
Fair enough. Not that there were any good books around but it was a decent pastime, more or less.  
“You sure you didn't imagine it, sonny?”  
“I know what I heard.”  
“And what exactly was that.”  
“Voices. Well, one voice actually.”  
Couldn't the kid be more specific? What kind of voice? And for that matter, maybe he thought it was a ghost or something.  
“It said... it said it was hungry, and something about 'kill, kill, kill'.”  
Ghost it was, then.  
“Go to sleep!”  
“I can't! There's something out there!”  
The engineer sighed. “Then do what you spies do best. Kill it!”  
The kid must have taken his advice. He seemed shaken the next morning, and wouldn't talk to anyone. Well, the boy would have to get used to murder, and doing his job. The cease-fire only lasted the weekend, and then it was back to the battle, to the grind, so to speak.  
Alex had best hope he was ready.  
* * * * *

It wasn't human. That much was certain.  
Alexis Crane, masquerading as a male so as to hold down a job, wasn't sure what she had seen, but it wasn't a human. That thing had tentacles.  
It had seen her too. That thing had _looked_ at her, like she was a particularly unappetizing morsel, and sort of... slithered away. She had been too frightened to follow it, but it seemed to be heading toward the sewers. When she returned to her quarters at 3 AM, having misplaced her book as she fled the monstrosity, she repeatedly told herself that it was just a dream, just a dream. No, there was no such thing as monsters. At least not the Eldritch anomaly kind. As she sank into an uneasy sleep, her thoughts were on Splinter Cell, wondering what the terrorists were doing to poor Sarah.  
And the base was dark.  
* * * * *

“The battle will commence in five minutes.”  
The RED medic already had his hands full with paperwork, and now there was to be a battle? At least his Ubercharge was working. Finally. Those Builders' League bastards would be in for a nasty surprise.  
“MEDIC! You are needed up front!”  
Ugh. The team Heavy Weapons Guy's mouth was stuffed with sandwich, as usual. There was a time and place for gluttony, as far as Erik was concerned. Rudy ate the same thing every meal, and plenty in between, as well. If the medic could speak his mind, without a rib crushing punch in the gut, he would prescribe a much healthier sandvich-less diet, in seconds flat.  
* * * * *

“Two minutes to battle.”  
Twin scouts Aster and Robbin were trading insults and taunts, as to who could run faster or play ball better. Such was the way they prepared for battle, raring to go bash someone's face in with a metal bat. The fray was a bloody outlet for the pent-up energy inside the BLU twins. Their mother had decided it might actually be healthy for them; after all, nobody there ever died for real.  
“Five. Four. Three. Two.”  
The two boys shared a look of excitement.  
“One!”  
They darted out into the fray.  
* * * * *

Hit. Hit. Miss. Boom, headshot. Miss again.  
What was wrong with the aim on this thing? Was it the scope, perhaps, not calibrated in the right position? Corey, the RED sniper, swore as his target evaded him. Again. Was he getting out of touch? 'Course not. Must be the wind. Another hit, this time only to the knee. Oh well, crippled was fine, somebody else would finish them off. His head jerked up at a noise from behind. Who else could be up in the sniper nest at this time? They were all down in battle, ready to get shot or stabbed from behind.  
Oh.  
Corey turned around, hand on his blade. Nobody messed with the sniper. Nobody.  
* * * * *

Shit! Sniper had been vulnerable moments before. The stray jars by the door probably had been placed there for the precise purpose of creating an early warning. At least she was still cloaked...


End file.
